


Dried Crimson

by mggislife2789



Category: Criminal Minds, Spencer Reid - Fandom
Genre: Cutting, F/M, Reader-Insert, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-04
Updated: 2017-03-04
Packaged: 2018-09-28 07:03:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10078751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mggislife2789/pseuds/mggislife2789
Summary: Please visit https://suicidepreventionlifeline.org or call 1-800-273-8255 if you are having dark or suicidal thoughts. You are not alone.Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters or their original stories. This is only for fun. It's where my brain goes after the credits roll. No copyright intended. Better safe than sorry ;)





	

Enough is enough. 

You weren’t meant for happiness in this life.

A loving family, a decent job, and a great boyfriend, and you were still miserable. What would it take for you to be happy? You’d been on every medication imaginable. You’d gone to therapy. But nothing could squelch this overwhelming sadness that seemingly came from nowhere. You’d have enough of fighting to be happy when you couldn’t. And you’d become tired of draining the lives of out those you loved. No matter what they said, being around you with your depression couldn’t have been easy on them. They deserved more. They’d be better off without you. 

Cutting had been an issue when you were a teenager, but you’d gotten out of the habit when you went into therapy and went on medication. Unfortunately those same methods didn’t work to rid you of your sadness anymore. A familiar feeling - one of soon-to-be relief - washed over you as you took the blade in your hand. One quick movement and you could drift off to sleep, the cold creeping over you as you walked off this road you’d been walking for so many years. The soles of your feet were cracked and bloody. The only way to heal them was to stop walking.

For a few moments, you flipped the blade over in your hand. You weren’t stalling; this was the only way. But you reveled in the comforting feeling that had washed over you when you picked up the blade. You wanted to savor it for a few moments. When you looked back at the clock, you noted the time. 7:32 PM. It was the last time you’d see. As you turned back, you positioned the blade at your wrist and slid it across, watching as the blue veins pooled red blood. 

Another deep breath rolled through you as you placed your head back on the bed. It was done. You could finally be at peace and your loved ones, although sad at first (at least you hoped), would move on and be happy, like they deserved to be. After a few minutes, or at least that’s what it felt like, your extremities started to feel cold, your fingers feeling stiff. You would go in and out of sleep. And then it would be over.

—-

When Spencer walked into the apartment at around 8 o’clock, he assumed Y/N would be asleep. She’d had a long day at work, so when she didn’t react to him coming home, he thought nothing of it, heading to the bathroom before going inside. He’d probably turn in early tonight too. Hotch needed everyone in early tomorrow. 

After brushing his teeth, Spencer walked toward the bedroom, when a coppery smell filled his nostrils. Was the smell in his head, or…?

“No!” he cracked, as he opened the door and saw Y/N’s wrist caked in coagulating blood. “No!” He ran to her place on the bed and started applying pressure to her wrist. 

“Let me go, Spence,” she whispered. “It’s okay. It’s not your fault.”

“I’m not letting you go!” he screamed, pulling out his phone and dialing 911. As the phone rang, it nearly slipped out his grasp, the slick red liquid coating his hand.

“Hello, I need an ambulance at 673 Lake Street,” he said, applying even more pressure to her wrist. “It’s my girlfriend. She slit her wrist. She’s lost a lot of blood. Hurry!” He screamed, throwing the phone down onto the bed as he grabbed a towel from nearby and tied it tightly around her wrist. 

“Just let me go, please,” she breathed, her labored breathing requiring every bit of energy she had left in her. “I can’t do this anymore.”

An eternity passed before Spencer heard footsteps come closer to their apartment. As the EMTs walked in the room, he bent down to where she lay, her lips becoming cold and took them in his. “Listen to me, Y/N. You’re going to be okay. We are gonna get through this. I love you so much.”

When the medical personnel put her on the stretcher, the tears that had only formed before, drained from his eyes, falling onto his hands to mix with the drying blood. After sobbing on the floor for a few minutes, he picked up his phone from where he’d thrown it earlier and sent a text to his friends. 

Y/N attempted suicide. I’m going to the hospital. I don’t know if she’s going to make it.  
Before he sent the message, he looked at it like it was a foreign concept, like it wasn’t something that was actually happening to him at this very moment. Swallowing hard, he pressed send and ran down the stairs, hands still covered in blood, to drive to the hospital.

—-

The minute Spencer stepped into the hospital, he was greeted by every member of his team. “What are you doing here?” he asked, looking around for a nurse who might be able to answer his questions. “I don’t even know where she is yet.”

“We’re here for you, kid,” Morgan said, taking a crying Spencer into his arms. “You don’t have to do this alone.”

As a nurse passed by the waiting room, Spencer ran out, with everyone else following closely behind, to ask about his girlfriend. “Excuse me,” he said, a tear rolling down his cheek and onto his arm, “My girlfriend, Y/N was just brought in here. She tried to kill herself. Where is she? Is she alive?”

“You got there just in time,” she said, her face going from one of determination to make it through her shift, to soft with concern. “She’s been stabilized. And I don’t want to alarm you, but we did restrain her, so when she wakes up, she can’t do anything to herself.”

“Can you point me toward her room?” he asked. Her biggest fear was being put away and restrained. Now that nightmare was a reality.

She pointed down the hall and Spencer walked in that direction, feeling like he was in a never-ending tunnel. No matter how far he walked, he never seemed to make it to his destination - and yet suddenly he was there, outside her room, looking in as his girlfriend lay on the bed, wrists tied down so as to not harm herself any further. “We’re all going to be here for her, and you,” Garcia said, crying as she placed her hand on Spencer’s back. “She’s not alone. And neither are you.”

After a few moments, Y/N opened her eyes and immediately started to cry. She was aware of where she was, the restraints she was under, and the fact that she was still alive. Spencer couldn’t decipher whether the crying was from regret at not having succeeded, or regret for what she’d done and where she now found herself. “I’m going to go in and talk to her privately if you don’t mind,” he said, turning to his friends. Although he wanted to speak to Y/N alone, he was glad his friends were here.

“Of course, Spence,” JJ said. “We’ll be in the waiting room.”

Spencer took and deep breath, turned around and walked into the room. Immediately, Y/N’s eyes caught his. “I’m so sorry, Spence,” she sobbed, pulling at her restraints. “I wasn’t supposed to be here. You were supposed to be able to move on without me.”

Her regret was from not having succeeded. “I don’t want to move on without you,” he cracked. “I love you. I know you feel like you’ve tried everything, but there’s so much more out there that could help. Please…let me help you.”

“You can’t help me,” she cried, feeling a strain in the wrist she’d sliced. “I’m beyond hope.”

He didn’t think there were any more tears left in him, but he continued to sob as he walked to her bedside and kissed her lips. “You’re not. I promise you, you’re not. Will you let me help you?”

She moved her head into his chest as much as the restraints would allow and sobbed. All that mattered to him at this moment was that she was alive, and she hadn’t outright said no to question he just asked. One step at a time. As he cradled her head in his arms, he noticed his hands still tinged with blood. The only thing he could hear was the frantic beating of his own heart and the repeated apologies of the woman he loved. “I’m sorry…I’m so sorry…I’m sorry.”


End file.
